


A Leaf in the Stream

by Lizardbeth



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, New Caprica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the detention center collapses with Kara, Sam, and Kacey inside, it's not the end, but a beginning of new lives, new paths, and a new future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anythingbutblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutblue/gifts).



> I tried your suggested prompts, I really did. After several false starts, the deadline was approaching and suddenly this plot bunny hit and I was helpless, even though it was much too late to start something so large. I hope my enthusiasm makes up for the Very Last Minute nature of it and you enjoy it!

* * *

Kara stirred, aware first that she could hardly breathe. When she tried to take a deeper breath, she couldn't, with something heavy pressing down on her. There was a sound, too, a sort of whining or whimpering that was annoying in her ears.

What the hell?

Memories filtered back: New Caprica hellhole. Explosions. Screams of Vipers in atmosphere. More explosions. Sam. Leoben. Kacey. Another explosion, the detention center shaking… Carrying Kacey up the steps, into the corridor, Sam shepherding them, she'd heard a terrible creaking, groaning noise, glancing up to see cracks…. 

Sam had tackled them to the ground, as she curled protectively around Kacey, and then… nothing.

Oh, gods, the building had collapsed. 

"Sam? Kacey?" The names stuck in her throat and the dust made her cough. She opened her eyes but there was nothing to see. 

Kacey was the one making that sound and Kara realized she was half on top of Kacey and managed to wriggle to the side. That weight on top of her was Sam's body, squashing them. "Shhh," she said. "Kacey, we'll get out of this." 

Kacey hiccuped and then her little hand groped at Kara's arm, feeling down to her hand. "Sam?" Kara said a little louder. "Sam! Wake up." She nudged him, freeing her elbow enough to jab him in the chest. "You gotta move." 

But he didn't move or respond. A chill went through her and she realized he'd taken the brunt of whatever had fallen on them. Her pant legs felt wet. Maybe it was blood. "Sam?" Anxiously she pulled her hand from Kacey to fumble for Sam, feeling her way in the dark from his waist to find his arm and from that, his wrist. He was still warm and his pulse was slow but steady, thank the gods. Which didn't mean he wasn't hurt, but at least he was alive. 

She squinted, closed and opened her eyes again. She was seeing shapes - shadows against a dark gray background, toward her head. That meant daylight. Reaching out, she started to feel around and found some small pieces of crumbled concrete that moved aside, and that gave her more room to scoot toward the light. With her hands she explored above. There was some large single piece above them that was blocking the light. It hadn't fallen directly on them, thank the gods, but it was about half a meter above her head. It was being held by something, but it made a sort of tunnel with some broken concrete bits underneath. 

"Kara?" Kacey's soft high-pitched voice was trembling as she felt Kara try to wriggle past her.

"It's okay," she reassured her. "We'll be okay, if I can move all the rubble we can crawl out, I think. You stay there with Sam while I clear the way." Wriggling forward, she pushed and shoved enough, trying to open a path to daylight. Once, for a particularly heavy block she squirmed around to push with her feet and it made a teeth-rattling, scraping sound. 

Sam groaned, stirring.

"Hey, Sam," she called. "Nice of you to join us." 

He coughed, catching his breath as if in pain. 

"How are you doing?" she asked, concerned. "Sam? Talk to me." 

"Kara? Is that you? What the hell happened?" he asked hoarsely. "Where are we?"

"Detention center collapsed," she explained. "I'm trying to get us out. You sound hurt. What's wrong?"

"Detention center?" he repeated blankly then added, "Oh, right. The rescue plan. I … found you then?" 

Short term memory loss, she knew that meant a concussion. "Yes, you found me. Where are you hurt?"

"Head killing me," he reported to no surprise, coughing shallowly and hissing at the resulting pain. "Ribs, back, too. Frak." He tried to move and made a sudden retching noise.

She bit her lip in concern but teased aloud, "I would've thought your hard head would keep you from concussion." 

"No such luck, I guess," he retorted.

"Stay still, then, I'm digging us out." 

"I can help," he offered, probably meaning it sound stronger than the breathless phrase she heard.

"Not enough room for two." It was true enough, but if he had a concussion she didn't want him trying to help anyway. They weren't that desperate. "Sit tight. Watch Kacey."

"Kacey?" he repeated in confusion. Then, as if she'd touched him, he added, "Uh, hi Kacey. I'm Sam." 

Kara went back to work, opening the way and letting more light into their hole until finally she could sit up with her head above the rubble, feeling a bit like a mole emerging from a hole to look around. "Thank the Lords of Kobol," she whispered, amazed that they were still alive. Back the way she'd come, she could see the pile of rubble above where Sam and Kacey were still hiding, including what looked like most of the roof on top of a floor slab. The concrete slab was held up one side by a metal grate, and if that metal gave way, the roof would slam down. "Sam, Kacey, move," she called urgently. "I don't trust it won't collapse again. Hurry."

Kacey came out first, a little worm finding her way to Kara's outstretched hands and onto her lap in a fierce hug. Kara hugged her back, checking her for injuries in the light. She heard muttered swearing as Sam followed more slowly, shying away from the light as his head emerged.

He looked pale in addition to dusty, and he moved as if everything took conscious effort, wincing and gritting his teeth as he pulled free. He sat there and surveyed the rubble behind them and the open path across some other rubble between the still-standing outer walls, and gave a choked chuckle. "Never bitching about the gods again."

"Yeah, no kidding. But let's not thank them too much yet. I don't hear fighting or ships or anything. I think we were under there awhile." 

He checked his watch and then held it out to her to see - it had been crushed, but had likely saved his hand. He stripped off the watch and dropped it to the ground. "I think we missed our ride."

"We'll just have to find one then. C'mon, before something else falls on us."

Kacey was the most light-footed of them across the rubble field to the remnants of the gate. She was also the one to find the bodies - one Cylon Eight, and two humans. Kara realized belatedly she should probably try to shield Kacey from the sight, but it was too late, and there wasn't much point to it. 

Kara stayed near Sam, who nearly fell when he stood up, dizzy. He also limped badly, favoring his right leg, but managed to make it on his own with careful deliberation. They cleared the building, walking through the archway where the gate had once been, and out into free air. She froze, feeling a strange wrongness about the open space. 

The sky was clear and huge above, though mostly overcast though she thought it was near noon. The city was quiet. 

There were Centurions everywhere, parts strewn like broken toys, and some more bodies. But there was no one alive that she could see. She retrieved the closest weapon, and checked the clip automatically. Two bullets. That'd have to be enough until she found another.

"What the hell happened?" she asked. "The Old Man came? I think I heard Vipers…"

"Yeah, they came back. Sharon was supposed to get the launch keys, we'd all get aboard the ships and leave while the battlestars held off the basestars. I came to get you. I had a rifle…" he trailed off vaguely, and cast around on the ground as if he'd dropped it outside the detention center someplace, instead of it being buried in the rubble.

"So where are the toasters?" Kara asked, but he couldn't answer that, shrugging as if the answer wasn't important. She suggested, "They must've gone after the Fleet, and left this place, too."

"Maybe not all of them," he said, and she agreed with that. 

"We'll be careful. Let's find some bandages or cloth or something so I can take a look at that leg and your head."

"We should get out of here," he objected. "There must be a ship we can take. You can fly us." 

She shrugged. "They're long gone, Sam. It's not gonna matter if we go now or later." She glanced at him and then down at Kacey, thinking it was all her fault they were stuck here with her. "They've left us behind."

 

* * *

New Caprica held only evidence of a hasty evacuation. People had left so much behind. So they found food and drink, and she ripped up some sheets to bind the cut on his calf and double abrasions on his head, front and back, even though though they had stopped bleeding. Kacey was unhurt, too, and while she didn't talk, she seemed content enough, eating crackers that Kara gave her.

"Where did she come from?" Sam asked curiously, abstaining from food with his lips pressed together as if he was still thinking about throwing up. 

"She, uh," Kara hesitated. "I think she's my daughter." 

Sam blinked, looking from her to Kacey and then back, frowning. "You had a kid before we met?"

"What? No, of course not."

"Then how does that work? I'm no expert on babies, but she's obviously older than Isis."

"Toasters," she answered shortly. "The Farm. Remember? They did it somehow."

"Oh." He was still frowning, as he poured some water. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" she snapped irritably. "What? You don't believe me? She's mine."

"All right, sorry." He dropped it, but to her annoyance, she could see he still had doubts, which made her doubt. But he didn't know anything; he hadn't been there. "I'm glad there was someone with you," he added more quietly. 

There was always someone there, always, and she'd give anything to get rid of those memories. Her hands wanted to shake and she turned so Sam couldn't see. Thank the gods Sam didn't remember seeing that fake apartment or that toaster. If she kept quiet, she didn't need to tell him anything. 

"Ah. I -" He murmured, drawing her attention back. He turned his eyes toward the ruins of the detention center, both hands cradling the water cup. "I - I want you to know I tried to find you. But no one knew where you were or that you were even alive. Not 'til Sharon showed up and found out where you were. But still, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." 

"So am I. They… told me you were dead," she admitted into the silence that followed his words. "That you'd died of pneumonia. I didn't want to believe them but …" She trailed off. As the days drifted past and Sam hadn't come, it had seemed true.

"Frakkers," he swore tiredly and that pretty much covered it. He frowned and slowly turned his head, squinting westward. "Kara, do you hear… crying?"

She listened, and at first she thought he was hallucinating any sound at all, because there was nothing except the two of them and Kacey and some rattles of the wind. But he was right; there was distant crying.

"Sounds like a baby," she realized. "C'mon, let's go see who else got left behind."

They all started that way, and Kara carried Kacey, but still picked up guns and ammunition they ran across. She handed him the first loaded sidearm she found. "You okay to shoot with your head cracked?" 

"You're expecting a really fearsome baby?" he asked dryly, but took the gun.

"If there are any toasters left here, they're gonna hear that, too," she answered shortly. The crying ended, and a chill went up her back. It was a feeling but it paid off, as they crept between tents, and saw two toasters, a Six and a Three, and the Three was holding a baby.

Frakkers. Frakking frakkers with their creepy fixation on love and babies, she thought, suddenly so furious that she was nearly shaking. She put Kacey down and whispered to Sam, "Be ready." 

Her hand stopped shaking when she raised it. Sam made a half-strangled gasp of protest that she was going to shoot, but she sighted carefully and took the first toaster with a shot in the head. The Three dropped backwards, providing a nice cushion for the baby, and the Six flinched, looking around in startled horror at the sudden attack. But Kara switched aim and dropped her, too. 

Sam was already moving, gun ready, checking for Centurions as he limped toward the baby. Kara headed out to give him cover, but it appeared they were alone. 

"It's Isis!" he said in astonishment, recognizing the baby, at which point Kara realized the dark-haired body in front of the nearby tent was probably Maya.

He bent down to pick up the baby, staggering when he rose upright again, but recovered. But instead of coming back toward Kacey and Kara, he went to Maya's tent. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Kara hissed. "We've got to clear the area."

"Keep watch. I'm grabbing her bag."

Kara waited impatiently, hand on Kacey to keep her from running, as she kept watch on the street, waiting for more toasters. Sam picked up the two bags that were with Maya and slung the straps over his head. "Hope this is what we need," he muttered, "but no time to look. Let's go."

They had no particular direction other than 'away' in mind, but it seemed to work, since they saw no one else alive, Human or toaster, in this abandoned village.

"Those toasters must have had a way off planet," she realized. "A Heavy Raider to get them to their fleet at least."

He made a face. "Another one? That one from Caprica smelled awful. Let's check the Colonial ships first. Maybe there's something we can use."

She was dubious of that, since any Colonial ship capable of lifting off would have gone, but there was no harm in looking. The smell in a Heavy Raider would be worse this time if she had to tear out another brain, since they had no Sharon to pilot for them. But on the other hand, Cylon FTL would mean fewer jumps to catch up to the Fleet, if they could figure out where to go at all, and less need for supplies. 

A sudden roar made her musing about taking a Heavy Raider obsolete. She and Sam both dove under the nearest awning to hide themselves from sight, covering the children with their bodies in reflex. Kara peeked under the tent flap in time to see a squadron of Heavy Raiders and Raiders take off into the sky. Last of the Cylons were bugging out. 

At her side, Sam watched, too, and blew out a breath. "Frak. Not that I was looking forward to trying to capture one, but… frak." 

"They're gone." 

Gods, this was a nightmare. But at least it was awful enough she was pretty sure she wasn't dreaming.

* * *

Kara didn't need the binoculars to see what remained on the landing field. There were several wrecks, but one looked intact. It was a yacht, about half the size of _Colonial One_ , and before New Caprica, it had carried a few hundred people in pretty cramped conditions. The original owner's family and a small crew had taken on board as many as they could carry at the Fall.

"The _Diomedes_ is still here," Sam breathed in surprise next to her. "It was supposed to go."

"Maybe they didn't get its launch key," Kara guessed. "And it's no good to us without that."

"We're not exactly swimming in options. We should check."

But 'we' included the kids and when Isis started to whimper, Kara glanced at Sam. "I'll go; you take care of her problem. Kacey, you stay with them. I'll be back." 

Sam looked resigned as he opened the bag, muttering something about babysitting. Kara was just as glad to be alone as she dashed across the empty field to the ship. The ramp was down and she started up it cautiously, sidearm extended.

"Oh, frak me." It was no mystery why the ship hadn't flown away. Everyone on it was dead.

Centurions had gotten on board before takeoff and shot them all. Maybe the ship had been a little delayed taking off or just unlucky, but from the main hatch all the way to the pilot's seat there was a trail of blood and death. There was not a single survivor.

_They're all dead, and you're alive. Because you're special._

"Shut up!" she said out loud, shaking her head to rid it of that voice. Then, breathing hard to try to calm down again, she put her sidearm in her pants and pulled the pilot from the chair to sit in the seat.

"C'mon, baby, show me what you've got," she murmured and flipped up the cover to get at the cold-start button and punching it.

Nothing happened for a very long few seconds, and then, the panel lit up. "Yes!" Her eyes examined the board, familiarizing herself with the controls and displays. The ship looked good - it had fuel, oxygen and water in the tanks, which was an unexpected bonus.

But the battery power was accessible without the launch key and since every ship was different about where the launch key was placed, she decided it was faster to just try the system.

"Alright, engine test." She input the commands. "Go, you son of a bitch, light up. I'm not staying on this frakking planet, if I have to build a ship out of wood and toaster parts. Come on!" 

The readouts started to rise, fuel and heat building, and then, the engine rumbled to life. 

"Yes!" She hit the edge of the console with her hand. "Thank you!"

She let the test run, checklist in hand, figuring she had better make sure it was actually space worthy before she went and told Sam that they were okay to go. Everything looked good. Activating the dradis, she also made sure there was no Cylon activity, but they seemed truly gone. Setting the engines in idle mode so they'd stay warm for a quick restart, she started pulling the bodies to the cargo bay. It was exhausting but she didn't want Kacey to see them - all the blood and smell was bad enough.

Task finished, as sunset started to creep across the sky, she left the ship to find Sam. She found him and Kacey building up a pile of … stuff. Kacey was carrying small boxes, and Sam larger ones. He'd found a floppy straw hat and sunglasses somewhere, trying to keep the light from his eyes. It looked ridiculous.

Isis was nowhere to be seen. Sam didn't notice her at first, as she watched him and Kacey. "What are you doing?" she finally demanded, amused. Kacey looked up and grinned, dropping her box and running for Kara, who caught her, staggering back. "Whoa, kiddo." 

"Supplies," Sam said. "I heard you start the ship, so I figured we might as well start collecting everything we can shove into cargo."

"It's got water and fuel. We should go. Get off this mud pit."

He set the box down on a pile of similar ones. "No. If there's one thing I learned on Caprica, you collect supplies when you can. We could be out there a long time - searching for the fleet, for Earth, for whatever the hell we're gonna do. Like you said, there's no hurry - Fleet's gone and we can't catch them. We're on our own."

She wanted to go, but it would be stupid not to take more supplies. Though she wished he didn't have a point about not being able to catch up to the Fleet. They'd have to be very lucky, no matter what, but he was right that it probably wasn't even possible with this ship, unless something happened to slow the Fleet. "All right. But it's getting dark. Where's Isis?"

He gestured with a thumb toward a box under the awning of the nearest tent. "She's asleep." 

"You put her in a box?" Kara asked, raising her eyebrows.

"It has a blanket," he retorted defensively. "And we're a little short on cribs." 

She smiled a little. "All right. At least she's quiet. I say we eat, get some sleep, and pack our supplies tomorrow."

It felt very odd and terrible to be using someone else's tent and chairs, and eat someone else's open jam, cheese, and stale bread. The silence of the place was oppressive, too, and made her start at any little noise of canvas flapping or distant metal clanging in the breeze.

She noticed Sam pick at his food without much appetite. "Your head still hurting you?" 

"Yeah," he admitted tiredly. "Plus the food tastes like I'm chewing paper. How are you doing?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine. I just want out of this frakking place." She spread more jam for Kacey and handed her the bread. 

She should've known it would happen, but it was still a shock when Kacey stuffed the bread into her mouth, getting jam all over her chin and on her shirt. "Kacey! My gods, can't you keep clean for two seconds! Look at this mess! How could you -" Kacey's eyes got bigger and wet with tears at the sudden shouting, and that made Kara inexplicably more furious. "Don't look at me like that! You know what you've done!"

"Kara!" Sam caught her arm, as she grabbed Kacey's chin roughly, and pulled her off. "Let her go. She's a little kid, for gods' sakes." 

Kara stared at Kacey, as her anger fled, as she realized what she'd almost done. "Oh, gods. I'm sorry," she whispered and turned away. 

There was silence for a moment and then Sam cleared his throat uneasily. "Um, Kacey, here, I have a wet cloth, I'll wipe your face. You are pretty dirty." 

Soon after, little arms went around Kara's legs and she looked down to see Kacey's curly head. It made her feel worse to see Kacey was forgiving her for being rough, reminded of all the times she'd apologized to her own mother for disappointing her. Kneeling Kara put her arms around Kacey. "I'm sorry, Kacey. Gods, I'm so sorry I'm such a screw-up." 

She pretended not to see Sam's thoughtful expression, as he watched her go in to the tent and put Kacey to bed. She stayed inside the dark tent, half hoping that Sam would find his own bed and leave her alone about this, but knew she wasn't going to be that lucky. 

He was drinking something from a metal cup. He was barely visible in the shadows beyond the reach of the dim lantern on their table.

She broke the silence. "I hope that's not booze, since you have a concussion." 

"Much as I wouldn't mind getting drunk right now, it's just water," he answered. 

The silence was desperately uncomfortable as she took a seat in the other chair and poured herself something from a bottle that wasn't water. 

Finally he took a deep breath and she braced herself for him to tell her she was a horrible parent, and she should stop trying to pretend she could take care of anyone. But that wasn't what he said. "Look, I'm sure you're not ready to tell me what went down in there. So I'm not asking. But it's pretty obvious something did. When you're ready, I'm here. You're my wife, I love you, and there's nothing you can tell me that would change that." 

She knew that wasn't true, couldn't be true, since there was so much she couldn't tell him about who she really was, what she'd done. How she was as awful as her mother had always said. How she'd given in to a Cylon and believed their lies. And betrayed her husband with a frakking toaster. It had been just for a moment, but that moment was enough. 

She glanced away, unable to look at his earnest face. It was so much worse knowing he thought he meant that, but he had no clue how wrong he was. 

"I'm going to get some sleep," she announced, draining her cup, and stood. As she moved past him to go back in the tent, he caught her hand with his. 

"We'll get through this, Kara," he promised softly and his lips touched the back of her hand before letting her go.

She froze on the impulse to bend down, remembering that frantic kiss she'd pressed on him in the hall when she'd realized whose arms were around her. But she remembered another kiss, and a betrayal, and she didn't. She went inside the tent, to flop down next to Kacey and wonder if she'd ruined everything. 

Later, before she slept, she heard him hesitate at the tent flap before turning away and going next door. She hoped he had Isis, because she was too tired to get up and check.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

The sound of the baby crying woke her early the next morning. It seemed to go on and on, spurring Kara to wakefulness, even though she put a pillow over her head to block the noise and the glow of the early morning sun. 

Isis cried more, forlornly, and Kara let out an aggravated noise and shoved her feet into her boots. She left them untied and rushed out into the cold air. In the tent next door, Isis was in the box crib, yelling, and Sam, she saw, was just stirring with a groan. 

"Gods, what's wrong with you?" she demanded irritably, pulling Isis from the box. Her lower half was wet and she was probably hungry, too, and Sam had tried to sleep through it. 

"Kara?" Sam looked at her in sleepy confusion, his hair all mussed into spikes, as he pushed himself up with a pained grimace. 

She shoved Isis at him. "Yours. Make her be quiet."

"Kara, she's not mine!" he objected loudly, but grabbed the baby, when Kara let her go, so Isis wouldn't fall on the floor. 

"Well, she's sure as hell not mine, and I already have one." She turned and left him there with hands full of crying baby, knowing she was being unreasonable, but it was too frakking bad. 

He eventually succeeded in quieting Isis down, coming outside with her held against his shoulder and wrapped in a blanket. Without speaking he made a bottle with powdered milk and sat down to feed her. Kara was privately impressed that he did it with such ease and while utterly ignoring her presence. When Isis was occupied with her bottle, he looked up at Kara, eyes narrowed in his own annoyance. "I forgot what a bitch you are in the morning."

"You said you liked it, remember?"

He snorted. "That's when it comes with more fun things."

"Yeah, well, in case you didn't notice, we've been left behind on this hell hole with a rat trap of a ship, and basically no course once we leave it. So 'fun' is going to take a while." 

"Yeah, I got that." He lowered his head, to look at Isis, shutting his eyes tiredly. That made her remember he had a concussion yesterday and having the baby screaming in his ear had probably not helped.

Intending it as a gesture of apology, Kara brought him a bowl for him, when she made hot cereal for Kacey. 

"Thanks." He stirred it without interest and gulped a few bites.

"We have to work together, I know that, Sam. Just… bear with me, okay?" she asked, not looking at him. 

"I know."

She took Kacey to the toilet and when they came back, Isis was in a bigger box gnawing on a plastic ring and Sam was rooting through the boxes he'd stacked yesterday. "Sam, what are you looking for?"

He came up with a medical kit and opened it, taking out the injector. "I feel like crap, but we have too much to do today," he explained shortly as he put a cartridge in it.

"Sam!" she sprang toward him, but too late as he injected himself in the thigh. He twitched at the prick, but then let out a long relieved sigh, relaxing as it went to work.

"Your head hurt that much?" 

He glanced at her as if tempted to say he needed morpha because of her, but he said only, "Head, and lower back, today. Like I was beaten with a wooden bar." He gingerly stretched his hands over his head, rolling his shoulders. "That's already better. I should start carrying supplies, while I can." 

They spent all day transferring supplies and when both kids were asleep during the afternoon, they took the bodies from the cargo hold. Kara wanted to burn or bury them, but Sam was colder than she expected, almost irritable. "Kara, they're dead. They don't care."

She couldn't disagree, but leaving the pile seemed … wrong. Kara said a short prayer, but Sam limped away without a backward glance. 

An hour later he trudged into view, pulling a cart piled with bags of flour and Kacey was sitting on top of the bags, giggling. 

"You make a good horse!" she called, making Kacey giggle again. 

She suspected he was glowering at her beneath his sunglasses but he didn't answer, seemingly on automatic pilot to take the bags to the ship, one foot after another. She grabbed Kacey off the wagon and gave her a case of medicines to take, figuring they might as well take all the medicine they could find, no matter what it was. Then she carried another box of scrounged rations to the ship. 

She wrinkled her nose in the hold. Next trip she was going to gather cleaning supplies - they were going to have to scrub down the ship. The stench was getting worse.

Sam was leaning on the bags and staring off into space. "Hey, lazybones!" she called. "You gonna unload that?"

He lifted his head to look at her. He was holding the glasses in one hand, and rubbed at his knotted forehead with his free hand. "I … don't think I can do more right now," he admitted in a voice a shadow of its usual strength. "Kind of dizzy."

She bit her lip. She'd hoped to pack the ship today and leave tonight, but if he was done in - and he certainly looked exhausted, and she wasn't exactly raring for more herself - they'd have to put it off another day. 

"I could use a rest, too. Let's go to the tents and get a drink. We can get back to this tomorrow." She called for Kacey, who came pelting through the hatch from exploring the rest of the ship. 

The three made a slow trip back to the tents. Sam walked without help, but Kara stayed close just in case he fell. Isis was crying in her box, though she stopped as soon as Kara lifted her up as if she'd just been lonely. 

"I'll take her," he offered and sat down with a sigh, leaning his head back against the support pole. "Gods, I feel like my skull's going to explode." 

"I hope not. It'd make a mess."

"Funny." He took Isis when Kara handed her to him, and half-heartedly tried to entertain her with her chew toy while remaining as still as possible. 

She took Kacey with her to find dinner, scouting new tents. It was funny how a person could get used to anything. Yesterday she'd been a prisoner, now she had the run of the place. It felt as if nothing before yesterday had ever happened. The empty tents already felt less strange, and rummaging through what had once been someone else's stuff was starting to feel like her own. 

_Maybe we could stay_ , the stray thought tempted. _Me, Sam, the girls, together. We'll never catch the Fleet anyway. Why put ourselves through the hell of empty space, searching for some elusive Earth, when we can stay here?_

She realized where she was, the east end of the main street not far from the tent she and Sam had shared. She was a little reluctant to go there, wondering what she'd find, but a morbid curiosity filled her. 

Moving the flap aside, she let Kacey in and followed. It felt as abandoned as the others had. But more, it looked and felt exactly the same as when she'd last seen it when Sam had been sick. He had changed nothing about the furniture or the organization of their belongings. So going in felt oddly as if nothing had happened in the meantime. 

The smell was different from before though, becoming like an old bar. The aroma of alcohol and stale cigarette smoke filled the tent, and she knew he'd gone back to smoking and drinking during the occupation, despite his illness. 

Kacey turned and looked at her curiously, wondering why she was acting so weirdly, no doubt. "This was my house," Kara told her. "With Sam. Before." 

And Kacey came close and grabbed her finger as if to offer her comfort, when Kara didn't even know why she was sad. 

She took the pyramid ball and handed it to Kacey. "We'll teach you to play. It'll be fun." She was going to take it, she decided. Tomorrow she would bring a cart and take it all to the ship: her paintings, their clothes, the bed sheets, all of it. This was their life together and she wasn't abandoning it. 

Maybe they could get it back. 

 

* * *

Sam didn't last long after making himself eat some dinner, heading off to the neighboring tent again with a muttered goodnight as she put Kacey to sleep. That left her with Isis who was stubbornly awake, probably because she hadn't done anything all day, unlike the rest of them. 

Her big doll-like eyes stared at Kara, far more somber than Kacey, as if she could see things that Kara couldn't. 

"So, kid, you lost your first mom. And your second. And now you're stuck with me. You must be the unluckiest kid in the universe." She bounced Isis on her knee, trying to get her to smile, but she wouldn't. "You want a toy? Is that it? How about this?" 

She handed the pyramid ball to Isis who promptly tried to chew it, but since it was almost as big as her head, it didn't work as a teether, so she dropped it. "Okay, not that." The rubber ring she'd had before also fell. Eventually, Isis decided dog tags were delicious, which was disgusting, but as long as she was happy Kara was willing to let her suck on them. She gummed herself right to sleep while Kara drank, and Kara amused herself by lifting Isis' arm and watching it drop as if she was completely comatose. "You're like a noodle, aren't you? Well, let's get you to bed." 

She put Isis in the cradle box near Sam, hoping he'd wake up if she cried this time. For a moment she hesitated. Part of her wanted to crawl under the blanket next to him - he was always so warm, and she knew he wouldn't ask questions if she didn't want to talk. But the rest of her turned around and left, telling herself she didn't want to leave Kacey alone in the other tent.

The next morning it was overcast and colder, threatening rain, when Kara emerged from the tent, pulled by a very awake Kacey. "Oh, frak's sake," Kara muttered with a glare up at the sky. "Give us a break, can't you?"

Sam was already up, yawning and feeding Isis little spoonfuls of cereal he'd made in a pot over the camp stove. "Gods want us to move the party off this rock, I think."

"Well, frak that," she grumbled and then frowned at him. "How are you so good with her anyway? She acts like she knows you." 

"She does, I guess," he answered. "In the resistance, she and Maya were always with Roslin. But mostly I hung out at the Tyrols and helped with Nicky. Didn't like being in our tent alone." He shrugged, uncomfortable under her regard. "It was something to do."

"And you blew up Cylons. I don't believe you weren't part of those explosions I kept hearing." 

"Yeah, that, too." He scraped out the little bowl and gave the spoonful to Isis, who let it all come back out of her mouth instead of eating it. "You're done, aren't you? I'm going to go shower, but I'll take her, too. She's dirty." 

"Don't drown in there!" she called after him, and he gestured behind his back at her rudely, making her chuckle. 

So while he and Isis were away, she made herself and Kacey some breakfast with the only egg she'd found, the last of the bread and the cereal Sam had made. She wasn't the most domestic of people, but it felt good to do something for herself, after being so completely dependent for all those months. The food tasted better too, somehow. "So, you and me, kiddo. Last day here. We have to finish packing the ship and then we're out of here." 

Kacey grinned and said something Kara thought was 'ball' though her mouth was full. She jumped off the stool and found the pyramid ball and threw it excitedly. It landed nowhere near Kara, and Kara had to chuckle as she went to retrieve it. "Clearly we need to teach you some things. But first, breakfast."

They ended up playing toddler pyramid, which involved a lot of Kacey making terrible passes and chortling about it like she'd won something as she watched Kara go get it. Kara groaned, knowing the kid was taking advantage of her willingness to fetch it, but trying to be a good sport about it since Kacey deserved a little fun. 

But when Kacey was bored of the game and Sam and Isis returned, damp but clean, it was time to go back to work. She found a second cart and took Kacey back to the tent: paintings, all her paint and supplies so painstakingly gathered in the past year, clothes, the spice box, the blankets... It seemed sentimental, foolish even, to collect all of it, but the thought of leaving it there sat heavily in her chest. Whatever they left here would be gone.

She found Sam unloading bags from the food storage - potatoes and onions and a few small cabbages. "What do you have there?" he asked curiously. He'd found some sort of cloth to wrap Isis against his chest to have his hands free, but keep her close. She seemed quite comfortable, eyes wide and sucking on her hand with her cheek against his chest.

"Our stuff," she answered with a shrug. "Didn't want it to stay here."

"Oh, that didn't even occur to me," he admitted after a moment. "I have our photo." He patted his jacket pocket. "That's the part I keep on me. And your tag. That's all I wanted to keep."

She rolled her eyes, but was touched in spite of herself. "You travel light for a sappy romantic. But you may end up very glad I have my paints," she said, only half-teasing.

He chuckled. "And that's why I'm taking one of the pyramid backstops. As soon as I finish cleaning out all the food." 

Cleaning supplies were next. Toiletries. Parts. It was as if she was shopping in a grocery store the size of Delphi. It was exhausting work, lifting and hauling, but the fresh air felt good. Helping Sam move the pyramid backstop up the ramp, delicately balanced between two carts while the kids watched safely from the hatch, made her feel accomplished. Pushing Kacey on the cart and hearing her laugh made it all worthwhile. 

After lunch they took an inventory and Kara said, "We could gather stuff for a week, but I think we should go in the morning. Later we should clean the floors to let them air out overnight."

"All right," he sighed and stretched his arms and back with a groan. "I'll be glad to get on the ship, and sleep for a week."

She snorted. "I'm going to teach you to pilot. There's no rest for you, Mister Anders."

He groaned. "Oh, gods, I've heard stories about you as flight instructor. Maybe we should stay here after all…"

She smacked his shoulder. "You'll learn and you'll like it, nugget. Come on, back to work. I'll take the west, you take the east half. Let's finish looting this town."

* * *

Kids asleep, she and Sam went to the ship to start cleaning the blood off. She wrinkled her nose. "Gods, the smell's even worse."

He sniffed and shook his head. "I don't smell anything."

"Nothing? At all?" she asked worriedly.

He shrugged. "I guess that's why all the food tastes so bland. Tell me where the worst of it is for you, and I'll do that part since I can't smell it anyway." 

He was taking it lightly, but she didn't like that his concussion lingered like that, as if something deeper might be wrong with him. But, since there was nothing she could do about it, she had to let him work and hope his sense of smell would come back and wasn't an ominous sign of something worse about to happen. 

They worked in silence mostly, until Kara was very tired of wringing out the cloths and her head swam with the fumes. When she nearly passed out when she stood up, she knew it was time to quit. Bumping the bulkhead in the corridor, still light-headed, she found Sam scrubbing down the floors in a small compartment where half a dozen people had been gunned down and bled to death. The whole compartment reeked and just crossing the threshold made her so dizzy she had to catch herself on his shoulder. "Sam, I … think you should stop. It's really strong in here." 

He looked up at her, eyes red from fumes, and grinned dazedly, swaying. "Hey." 

She snickered. "You look funny. C'mon…" she tugged at him. "Out of here. Before you pass out."

In the corridor they staggered into the wall, his body against hers, and he looked into her face. "Hey, beautiful."

She knew the fumes had made him high, but so was she and she was tired of holding back. She pulled him by the neck closer, to kiss him. The feel of him under her hands was so familiar, yet out of a dream. Shoulders, lips, the grip of his hands on her hips and how they slid around her back to hold her close, still kissing her fiercely, as if he'd been saving it up. 

She'd imagined this so many times early on, trying to get away from reality into a comforting dream, and now it was reality, but it didn't feel real. It felt wrong, reminding her of something else, and her fingers itched for a weapon, like the knife she'd stabbed Leoben with.

Horrified at the realization of what she was thinking of doing, she yanked back away from him. "Oh, gods, no, no, I can't." 

He let her go, staying where he was, watching her in wary concern. "I'm sorry," he offered hesitantly as if he'd done something wrong.

She shook her head. "Not your fault."

His lips parted as if he wanted to ask a question, but then changed his mind. "Why don't you go ahead to the tents? I'll vent the interior." 

It was an obvious ploy to let her have space to get her head straight, but she took it anyway. 

In the tent, she listened to Kacey breathing and waited for Sam to return. It took him awhile, long enough to start wondering if he'd fallen asleep in the ship, but then she heard him shuffling around quietly getting ready on his own.

She didn't want him to go into his own tent; she wanted him in the bed with her. She wanted him to come in here and they could frak, and maybe she could finally get rid of that other taste from her mouth. But not yet, not when her instincts still wanted to kill. Wanted to hurt.

Maybe once they were away from New Caprica, in their own ship, she could bury those memories and instincts and move on. 

* * *

In the morning, they were ready. Kara in the pilot's seat, Sam in the co-pilot, with his own copilot bundled against him, and Kacey strapped into the navigator's seat, so she could see, too. 

"Everybody ready? Let's get this bucket of bolts in the air."

The engine rumbled to life, shaking the ship. She kept a running commentary for Sam, explaining the controls and the displays, hoping she could do a good enough job to give him a chance, if something happened to her. Terrible things could happen in space; and it was better to be prepared. 

The ship shook more violently as the thrust built, and Kara watched the readouts carefully, looking for fuel leaks or weaknesses somewhere in the system which might turn them into a very pretty exploding ball of gas and debris. But systems were good, and the ship lifted off. 

She waved at the planet as the curvature came into view. "Bye, bye New Caprica. Roslin was right and we should've never settled in that hole. The whole thing was a mistake." 

She felt Sam's glance before he looked away again.

Kacey said, "Bye bye." 

Then they were in space, the planet beneath them. There were no hostiles on dradis that she could see, thankfully, though the dradis was much weaker than a Viper's. 

"Now what?" Sam asked. "Where to? You've been thinking about it, I know."

"Well, before Racetrack stumbled on this place, we were heading for Earth via the Tomb of Athena and the Caravan of the Heavens that Pythia talks about. I know the original coordinates, and we can just get back on that trail."

"The trail the Cylons had also been following," he pointed out.

"True. But they won't be looking for one tiny ship. And… it's not like we have a better option. Unless you know something I don't?"

He started to smile as if planning a joke, but then answered, "Nope."

"Alright, then let's have our first lesson on plotting a jump." It didn't go well, with Kacey bored and squirmy, preventing everyone from concentrating, and then Isis started to fuss. "Oh, gods, take them out of here, I'll do it myself."

She made the calculations, input the new coordinates, and after sending up a silent prayer, jumped them. 

After the jump left them a ways from New Caprica, she went to look for the others. Isis was on the floor, crawling around with the pyramid ball, while Sam and Kacey were going through a box full of kids' stuff which Kara knew she hadn't brought on board. Sam was sitting on the floor watching as Kacey dumped it all out on the floor and decided the box was going to be a boat. 

Sam noticed her in the hatch and glanced up. "It went okay?" 

"Fine. The jump engines need to cycle. Or we're going to burn a lot of fuel for no good reason." 

"Except if there were toasters here." 

"That would be a good reason." She wandered in and listened to Kacey babble about her box. She'd been spending enough time around the kid, her babble was starting to be comprehensible.

Another jump put them back at the original coordinates where the Fleet had gathered and held before heading for New Caprica. Then they were out in the black, heading on a rough course following that original line from Kobol. 

It was so vague, it made her uneasy. There was no signpost, no goal, nothing but a beam of light that pointed in what they hoped would be the right direction. The lack of clear direction made her irritable, and she was a bad teacher, impatient with Sam's lack of concentration trying to learn the jump equations. "Gods, damn it, Sam, you're not stupid, why aren't you getting this? It's not that hard. Concentrate."

"I've never done this before!" he snapped back and shoved back his chair. "I'm a ball player, not a pilot, and physics in school was a long frakking time ago."

All that was true, but she didn't think that was the problem. She looked at his back, rigid with anger, and let out a sigh. "Does your head still hurt?"

"It's not that," he added softly. "Well, not only that. But I look at it, and … it's like a shadow. I almost have it; I almost understand it. But then… I don't. It's gone." 

"You can do it. You're more than just Samuel T Anders, pyramid player, Sam. I know that, and so do you." Right after she spoke the words, she remembered another voice telling her nearly the same thing: _This is not all that we are._

She pressed her lips together, feeling ill suddenly, excusing herself without grace and running to the head. She looked at her reflection, the big eyes still full of memories of that frakker, and the long hair that reminded her of New Caprica. 

Gathering her hair in a fist, she took the straight-razor Sam was using to shave every couple of days and sawed off her hair above the shoulders. The strands fell in a shower of golden threads, and at first she looked strange to her own eyes. But then she smiled and her reflection smiled back. This was Kara Thrace, not the long-haired doll in a psycho's dollhouse. 

Sam appeared in the reflection in the open hatch behind her, startling her and she whirled around, razor extended. 

He jumped back, alarmed. "Hey! Sorry. I thought you heard me in the hall. You okay?" Then his gaze traveled up to her face and he cocked his head a little, and a smile started to form before he bit his lip. 

"What?" 

"I, uh, your hair. It's shorter-"

"Brilliant deduction, Doctor Anders." 

He reached up with his hand to one side of his own head, miming a pair of scissors. "-- And you need to let me fix it. Or I'm going to laugh every time I look at you, and I don't think you want that."

She glanced in the mirror, realizing her knife-cut hair was two different lengths on either side of her neck. "It's crooked, isn't it?"

His smile spread to a grin. "Very. Not to say I don't like your hair short, too, but … yeah. Let me help."

Later, sitting in front of him while he doctored her hair, he asked, "Can you tell me what that was about?"

"What I said reminded me of… someone."

"Leoben," he said. She started with surprise and turned her head, and would've gotten stabbed in the cheek with the scissors if he hadn't had fast reflexes to pull them away.

"How did you--? Do you remember?"

He hesitated and she realized she'd given it away. Sam answered slowly, "Was he there in the prison? No, I don't remember seeing him there. But we had a Leoben in camp for a while on Caprica. Spoke that same stuff. Streams and fish and destiny shit. I shot him in the head."

"Good," she said viciously and wished it didn't feel a little bit like a lie. "How did you know he was a Cylon?"

"Father Cavil told me," he answered, dryly. "Either to deflect suspicion, or to try to make me second-guess my decision. But it didn't work that time because I knew it was true. Leoben was obviously not a Fleet officer." He put a hand on her head and gently coaxed her back around. "Sit still. It's ironic that I knew Leoben so easily, but I had no idea about Cavil or Simon. I should've known. But they did try to frak with my head a lot, so I know what that's like, Kara. At least a little bit." 

She didn't say anything, as he finished trimming. He set down the scissors and wiped the back of her neck and upper back, bare except for her bra, with a towel. He examined the job he'd done and nodded in satisfaction. "There. Much better."

She looked at her reflection and her eyes met his in the mirror. "I think you have a future in hair styling, Mister Anders." 

He bent and kissed her shoulder and then her cheek, fingers gentle on the side of her face, murmuring, "Just so long as it's a future." Then he withdrew and busied himself sweeping up the hair while she pulled on her shirt again.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Over a few days, they'd settled into several cabins - one for Kara and Kacey, one with Sam and Isis, and a larger one with a kitchen as their main living area. But it was such a big ship with the four of them that the children also had their own play rooms, there was a workout room where Sam had put down some mats, set up a pull-up bar, and was collecting heavy objects for weightlifting. He'd also moved the pyramid backstop into a storage area, and there was a cabin for Kara's painting. 

Yet they often ended up in the living area anyway, despite all the room. Kara finished her painting and wiped off her fingers on her way to look for something to eat. It was late, and Kacey was already in bed, and she didn't hear Sam so she assumed he was in bed as well. 

Except she saw from the main hatch that he was there, sound asleep on the couch, with Isis sleeping between his body and the back of the couch. 

Kara smiled at the sight and shook her head ruefully. She would never have guessed he'd be good with a baby. They'd never talked about kids beyond her adamant refusal to have any, and he hadn't protested. She'd thought that meant it wasn't something he wanted either, but now, watching him with Kacey and Isis, she wondered if having children was something he'd given up on wanting because of her.

His head moved a little, lips parting, and he let out a sound in the grip of some kind of dream. She crept closer, wondering if he was having a nightmare. He'd had nightmares occasionally on New Caprica of running from the Cylons and worse ones where he woke up gasping, thinking he'd been thrown alive into one of the burial pits. But since she had her own nightmares, and worse ones now, too, they knew to deal with them. 

This time though, he didn't sound distressed and he seemed oddly to be _humming_ , but she reached over him to pick up Isis just in case. As soon as she was gone, Sam woke up with a gasp, eyes flying open. 

It took a moment for him to notice her, and then he blurted. "I saw it!"

"Saw what?"

But his gaze dropped and he frowned, suddenly confused. "I - I don't know. It was important though." 

"It was a dream, Sam. Why don't you go to bed - Or," she knew what she wanted in that moment, and grinned at him. "Maybe we could go to bed?" She tried to ask it casually, because that was how she wanted it to be, but she knew, as he did, that it was the first time she'd suggested them sleeping together again, so it felt more momentous than it should. But she wanted to, because she felt good after the painting and he looked delicious lounging back against the couch, and frak it, she wasn't going to let that toaster ruin her life forever.

He smiled back but then the smile faded as he hesitated, "You sure?" 

"I - look, I'm not promising sunshine and ponies. But I want to frak and you're here and I'm here, and it's been a long time."

"With that kind of invitation, who could say no?" he retorted dryly. 

"Then it's a yes. Don't go anywhere." She hurried to his room to put Isis in the crib, which had become something bigger and sturdier than a cardboard box, and was now also equipped with a small stuffed bear and mobile that Sam had cobbled together with wooden carvings. For a moment she worried that Isis would wake up - she stirred and her eyes flickered - _no, no, baby, no, be quiet, don't make me regret shooting those toasters and saving you -_

Isis looked at her, yawned and went back to sleep, sucking on her fist.

Kara pulled the hatch halfway and hurried to the living area, pulling off her shirt and dropping it in the corridor. "Sam? You better be getting undressed." she called softly. To her appreciation she saw that he'd already taken off his shirt and was tugging off his pants as she entered. 

The couch was narrow and they ended up on the floor, but that was fine, because Kara felt more herself, sweaty and wrung out. She was still straddling his waist and he leaned against the couch, one of his arms loosely around her back. "You okay?" he asked softly. 

Only this way, relaxed and not having to look at him but while feeling his nearness, could she speak. "He didn't rape me, if that's what you imagine. It was … different. He wanted us to be a- a family. I'd kill him and the frakker kept coming back, saying he'd seen us together, it was destiny…" Her voice stumbled and his arm tightened. 

"That must have been terrible," Sam murmured. "But let me tell you something - you know this, but maybe you kind of forgot while that frakker was playing with your head. This -" he traced her arm tattoo with his finger, "means if anybody has a destiny, it's us. The Cylons are part of it somehow, I know that, but the minute I saw you I knew you belonged in my life."

"Even holding a gun in your face?" 

He chuckled and combed his fingers through a lock of her hair. "Especially holding a gun in my face. You know what? Here we are, you and me, still sticking it out. Gods throw toasters at us and collapse buildings on us, and we're still here. We still find each other."

"You think we'll find the Fleet?"

"I think we'll find Earth." Which was not the answer she expected.

She lifted her head, pushing back from his chest, to look into his face, surprised by the certainty in his voice. "You really believe that?"

"I know we will. I - I think that's what I was dreaming about. I have the strongest feeling that we'll find it."

She shook her head and put it down on his shoulder. "You're still concussed."

She meant it as a joke, except he added softly, "Maybe I am. Something changed, Kara. I mean besides that I can't smell anything and the headache keeps lingering, I feel … different. Like I've forgotten something really important, and I dream about it, but I can't remember when I wake up."

His voice was calm, but she could feel the tension in his body beneath her and knew it was upsetting him. Her hand stroked the skin of his shoulder and chest. "It'll pass, Sam. Your head needs to heal up a little more and you'll be back to annoying me with your hard head in no time."

* * *

While ordinarily that would probably have been true, it didn't work that way. If anything, their situation got a little stranger. He continued to have strange dreams he couldn't quite recall, while she had unnerving, disturbing dreams about Leoben telling her not to be afraid and a mandala. She also read Pythia, looking for clues on where to go - and looking for _anything_ in a mostly heretical prophet's work struck her as nearly deranged, if it wasn't the only clue she had. So she sat at the navigation console and flicked through updated star charts at each jump. She cycled through the images, so bored she was about to quit and go find Sam to play pyramid, when she saw it. 

That image. The nebula. It looked like a lion. 

No, she was was seeing things that weren't there. Clearly she'd been doing this too long. Turning on the intercom, she said, "Sam, come up to CIC. I need you to see something."

She needed him to tell her she was nuts, and she was seeing an image that didn't actually look anything like a lion with a pulsar for an eye. But as she waited, she examined the data and found the nebula was not far off their present course.

Sam came in, smelling strongly of onions and the dried baby cereal on his shoulder, with Isis drooling on his arm. "Kacey's coloring. She likes your circle design, by the way." 

She didn't want to think of that. "Remember in the Book of Pythia, the part about the lion's head and the blinking eye?" Kara said. "What does that look like to you?"

He leaned over her shoulder to peer at the screen. "Lords of Kobol," he breathed in shock. "I recognize that, Kara. That's in my dreams. We have to go there."

A shiver passed over her and she glanced at his arm tattoo and then her own. Destiny. His dreams had been clear enough that he could recognize the nebula at a glance. 

She cleared her throat."All right," she stated, trying to be business-like. "You plot the jump and I'll check it."

"Okay." He handed her Isis and sat in the navigator's seat. He'd become more comfortable as a pilot, picking it up quickly as his headache eased. She was surprised that he seemed to have an almost instinctive grasp on the math - not that she bought into the dumb jock stereotype, because she knew he'd been studying philosophy of science at university even if that was something he rarely mentioned - but watching him learn was still sometimes a little odd, as if he was learning it again, not for the first time. 

On their way to the nebula, they still had strange dreams. Sam never remembered his distinctly, but woke up bothered and with faint snatches of music he'd hum under his breath repetitively until she wanted to hit him. She remembered hers, dreams of Leoben and her mother, and buried herself in Sam and frakking until the nightmare's grip eased. Isis was always watching them with her big eyes, as if she was waiting for something. Thank the gods for Kacey who was the bright spark of normal joy on the ship and lightened their moods. 

They came out of the jump with everyone in the cockpit to see where they'd arrived. 

The nebula stretched across the window, glowing and beautiful, a trailing mane of gas emitted by a long ago explosion. But a scan proved that wasn't all there was - there was also a faint signal on the wireless. It was a repeating tone, like a buoy in the water. Kara triangulated on it, and knew when they'd gotten close, because they reached a spreading debris field of what had once been a basestar.

The source of the signal was a small, roughly spherical metallic object with an internal power source and a wireless array. It was damaged and old. How old, she didn't know, but really frakking old.

"We need to get it aboard," Sam said, standing behind the pilot's chair to look at it with her. 

"What? Are you nuts?"

"It'll tell us where to go," he declared. "Maybe even where Earth it. That's from the Thirteenth Tribe, Kara." 

"How do you know that?"

She expected him to say he'd dreamed it, but instead he pointed to the image on the viewer, magnified to show the detail. "The lettering on the side. That's High Kobolian. I can't read it, but I saw it in my classes." 

She peered at it, uncertain it was actually writing and not just random scratches. "I don't know, Sam. It makes me nervous. Cylons have already been here. Something blew up that baseship."

"We need to look at it," he said flatly, without any intention of compromise. 

She knew he was right. If they expected to get a clue to the next stage of the path, they'd have to look at it. "All right. I'll EVA and grab it."

It was a delicate operation to line up the dorsal airlock with the beacon, but at last she put them at relative rest to each other, and suited up. She missed her flight suit, which was far more comfortable than the EVA suits on the ship, but it tested safe and she tethered herself securely, before popping the airlock open. 

" _Kara?_ " Sam's voice over the wireless sounded concerned. 

"I'm good. Hand thrusters functioning well. Approaching the beacon." It seemed bigger when she was next to it than it had appeared on the sensors or even the main window. Then she got to its aft and put one hand behind her and activated the thruster in the palm to push herself and the beacon back to the ship. "Damn, it must mass more than it looks. This may take a while, I don't want to accelerate it too fast." 

" _Hitting the ship with it would ruin our day. Take your time._ " 

It was a dance of keeping it moving without turning it into a crash she couldn't stop, slowing it down as they got nearer the ship. Then it passed safely into the airlock and she shut the outer door, activating the air supply and AG. 

It plummeted to the deck with a crash she felt in her boots. "Oops. Sorry." 

Sam chuckled. " _Felt that. Did you put a big hole in the floor_?" 

"Maybe a dent. Taking off my helmet. You should come down and check it out. It's… interesting looking." 

That was pure understatement. Up close it looked like nothing Kara had ever seen before and yet strangely familiar in its design. It was spherical and spiky, like an urchin, with a few small lights on it. Up close she thought Sam was right about the worn lettering. 

He came in, Kacey darting around him eagerly. "No, Kacey!" Kara dove to catch her, before she touched it. "No, sweetheart, it could be dangerous. You go back inside." But Kacey squirmed and complained, wanting to play with it, and Kara had to drag her out bodily, calling to Sam over her shoulder, "You look at it, I'm going to get some paper and one of Kacey's charcoal sticks. We'll make a rubbing and see if we can figure out what it says. But don't touch it," she cautioned. "If it's contaminated, you're not suited up, and I still don't like it that the Cylons left it here."

He nodded absently, staring at it, while she took Kacey out. The suit was clunky as she gathered the things. She peeked in on Isis who was safely tucked in her crib, though not asleep, and when Kacey forgot all about the beacon and was pretending a spoon was a Viper, Kara returned to the airlock. 

Inside, Sam was still in the same place. "Kara, I've seen this before," he murmured. "It's so… familiar to me…" 

He reached out as if to touch it, and she dropped to her knees with a painful thwack to slap his hand away. "Don't touch it, moron!" He pulled back, looking chagrined. Then making sure she was gloved, she took rubbings of all the markings on the outside. It filled up several sheets when she was done, and she decided it would be better for them to look at them away from temptation. In the main room, Sam inspected the drawings, while she peeled out of the suit. "Definitely High Kobolian." 

"So we're screwed unless the computer has a translation matrix in it," she suggested, but not hopefully. It was a very old and scholarly language, long before modern Colonial and its dialects, and before Caprica had invented new alphabet. 

He spread the pages on the table and turned them right-way around for Kara to look at. She frowned, caught by a sense of familiarity herself. "I've seen this too. Recently."

Then it hit her and she dashed out of the room to where she'd left the book she'd taken from Oracle Selloi's tent. Who knew an old book from a dead oracle would prove to be so valuable? "This is where I read the part about the lion's head. And look, this is on the next page, Sam." She flipped through the book and found the page. Unlike most of the book that was in translation, there were parts that kept Pythia's original drawings, including her rendering of a sentence in High Kobolian. "It's the same. Look."

He compared the two and nodded, amazed. "Frak, it's the same. What does it mean?"

She read. "Pythia writes, "The Beacon guides the caravan to the next step along the path to follow the Thirteenth. But upon the beacon itself there is a message: the lost one may use the key and open the path home."" She chuckled dryly. "We're definitely lost." 

"Key? What key? Shit, we don't have a key," Sam muttered anxiously. "I don't think there was a lock to put it in either. Something more metaphorical."

She read a little farther. "Oh, my gods, Sam. The commentary says that's the accepted translation, but the actual glyph isn't 'use' it's 'sing.' 'Sing the key ." She looked up at him. "You have to sing the song."

"What song?" he asked blankly.

"The one you've been humming under your breath for the past three days, driving me nuts! The one you've been hearing in your dreams! Which song do you think?"

"I - I don't know it. Only little pieces," he protested. "I don't know all the words."

"I'll help. I've heard you at night, and I think I've figured out the tune at least."

* * *

Later that night after the kids were asleep, they returned to the airlock, both suited up except for helmets and having worked out something which sounded vaguely correct. It was an odd tune with odd words, but there were parts of it she seemed to recognize, too, as if her father's piano from a long time ago was still haunting her.

"Wow, I feel stupid even thinking about singing to this thing," Sam muttered. "This is never gonna work."

She snorted. "Have a little faith. You were right, baby - there are no coincidences. Ready?"

"Ready." He cleared his throat and tentatively started to sing. Kara wished they had instruments, or at least a piano to accompany him. Instead she did the repeating bass line, which should probably be chords, as he sung the very surreal lyrics. She had no idea if they'd put them in the right order, and sometimes he had to la-la his way through not knowing the words, but it seemed close. There was a higher part, a triplet that descended, and he did that with a flourish. 

Then both voices fell silent as the beacon's lights flared brilliantly, and then it sat there, waiting. Glancing at Sam, Kara repeated the phrase, singing it a little higher where it sounded better, and the beacon started to crack open, brilliant light streaming out. It started to give off a high-pitched hum.

"Oh, frak," she muttered, "We've got to get it off of the ship. It's building some kind of charge."

"Out the airlock and we'll force the outer door open, that should take it," he suggested hastily.

She agreed and they ran out, slamming the hatch behind them. Then she flicked up the safety panel, turned the key to turn off the AG, and forced the outer doors open. She watched through the small porthole window in the hatch as the atmosphere exploded outward, taking the beacon with it. 

"Go, up to CIC!" she yelled and started to run, and Sam pounded after her. She threw herself in the seat, to use the thrusters to move the ship away from the beacon. 

It oriented itself, spinning in place, as it opened like a flower to expose a glowing power core. And Kara watched, mouth gaping, as the stars and the nebula beyond it began to distort as if the beacon was warping the very fabric of space-time. 

Sam's hand closed on her shoulder. "Tell me you're seeing this," he murmured.

"Yeah," she answered. "I see it. I think it might be a wormhole, Sam." 

The edges of the distortion began to glow, and the glow traveled inward, swirling, sucking in the red and blue of the lion's blinking 'eye' beyond it, turning into a round or spherical space-time anomaly, which reminded her of a black hole, but far smaller and brighter, and oddly colorful.

Sam's grip on her shoulder tightened. "It's that pattern," Sam breathed. "The circles, Kara. It's the mandala you paint... red and blue and yellow… Oh, my gods, this is a miracle or something, how is this even possible?"

She could barely breathe, because he was right. That very same image she'd had in her mind from the time she was small, was right there, hanging in space. 

"Do we… do we go in?" she asked, voice trembling. "If it's some sort of singularity, it'll crush the ship. Kill us all."

"No, I don't think so," he answered."This is the Thirteenth Tribe. It's a … door. Let's go through it. Let's go home." 

Inhaling a deep breath to try to settle her nerves, she nodded. "Okay. Go strap in the kids. Hurry."

He rushed aft and to her surprise, returned with the girls. They were both crying, unhappy at his waking them up, but both of them also stopped crying the moment they saw outside the window. Isis cooed in delight, and Kacey hiccuped, as Sam buckled her in. He sat in the co-pilot seat, wrapping Isis to him so she could see. "Ready," he said. 

"We're going." She activated the thrusters and directed the ship toward the swirling colors, praying this was the right thing to do. "Here goes nothing." 

The colors grew brighter and brighter, and then it became overwhelmingly bright. The ship began to tremble and then shake more violently, groaning under the strange stress. 

She didn't think she moved, but somehow she felt Sam's hand gripping hers tightly as they went in.

 _Oh, gods, oh gods, what are we doing? This is stupid, we're all going to die… Please, Lords of Kobol, protect and save us…_

_So say we --_

Bright light seared across her eyes and through her mind and then there was nothing.

* * *

Kara woke slowly, as if she was crawling through mud, trying to find the light. Where? What happened?

Something touched her cheek and then grabbed, pinching her cheek, and a little quavering voice said, "Kara?" 

She opened her eyes to see Kacey looking at her. "Hey, Kacey."

The ship was here. They were alive. It had worked. 

She glanced to the side, checking that Sam was still there in the co-pilot seat. He was groaning, eyelids flickering, but Isis was already awake, and her big eyes were looking outside. 

Kara lifted Kacey to her lap and followed Isis' gaze. There was a bright arc of a planet, blue and white and shining in the starry void. 

She knew … knew … it was Earth. She hugged Kacey tightly. "We found it, kiddo. We made it. We're at Earth." Excited, she glanced aside to see if Sam was seeing it, too, but his eyes were still closed. "Sam! You have to see it, it's Earth, it has to be! We're at Earth." 

His eyes opened, looking glazed, as though he'd been hit in the head again. "Oh gods," he whispered. "I … Kara, I'm so sorry…"

She frowned and shook her head in confusion. "Sam, what are you talking about? Don't be sorry, we made it, you were right. We're all here - you and me and Kacey and Isis- We're at Earth!"

He glanced down and rubbed a hand across Isis' dark curls, and for a moment, he seemed to want to say something to the baby, then he looked out at the planet outside the window - clouds and seas and land visible in the light from the nearby star. His eyes closed and his expression crumpled in grief and regret, as if overcome. "I remember," he whispered. "Oh, gods, I remember." 

"Remember what?" she asked, wondering why he was acting so strangely. Maybe the wormhole or whatever that had been, had re-concussed him.

But he didn't answer, stroking Isis' hair as he stared out the window. He took a moment to gather himself back together, squaring his shoulders and saying softly, "Let's go down and I'll show you."

* * *

Sam took the controls to select their landing site, and he seemed to know exactly where to go. 

Kara started to understand some of Sam's earlier distress as they curved down to the surface, crossing the night side. There were no signals and no city lights.

No people.

So she wasn't entirely surprised when they landed amid ruins. Outside the cockpit window, she saw a broken bridge and shattered city buildings. 

"You knew it was like this," she accused. "You knew the Thirteenth was gone. How did you know?"

"Because I was here," he answered in a murmur. "It's a radioactive wasteland." He stood up, expression set in bitter lines. "This was never our salvation. Never our destiny. It's all a lie." 

He turned around and left the cockpit, leaving her very confused behind him. It was utterly impossible that he had been here, but maybe he was mixing-up dreams with reality.

She checked the air, wondering about what he'd said about 'radioactive wasteland', but read nothing abnormal or unhealthy in the atmosphere or the land nearby. It looked cold and many of the trees had bare branches for winter, but there were living trees and bushes, even a few tough flowers. All still alive and beautiful, except for the half-buried ruins. 

She went aft, looking for Sam, finding the ship deserted and the main hatch was open. Sam was standing away from the ship, holding Kacey's hand. Both had their coats on, and Isis was bundled up in a blanket, which Kara realized was smart as the icy wind cut right through her shirt. But she didn't return for a jacket, joining Sam and Kacey on the sand, not far from what looked like the fallen dome of a temple. "Sam, it's not deadly. Scans report that it's good. The air is clean, the ground is fine. We may find some fallout gathered in the sea, but whatever happened was a long time ago." 

"Two thousand four hundred and twenty-seven years," he answered with unnerving precision. He turned to her, puzzled. "There's no contamination?"

"Nothing the scans can pick up." She held up a hand scanner. "Try it yourself, if you don't believe me."

He took the scanner from her, looking at the read-out and shaking it as if it was stuck or glitched. He walked all over the sand dunes and the piles of debris with the scanner as if trying to prove something, while Kara watched Kacey and Isis dig in the sand. 

He wandered back to her as the sun set and Kara was collecting the girls to go back inside as the wind picked up and grew colder. "It's clean," he said, his voice hollow with wonder.

"I told you so," she told him, feeling a bit smug.

"No, you don't understand. I know what happened here, Kara. It's not… it's not possible." 

She approached him, hearing an incipient sound of distress that he was holding within, tight and near breaking. "Sam, here, hold her." She handed him Isis and he cradled her reflexively, relaxing his arms and shoulders and resting his cheek against the baby's head. She batted at his cheek and grabbed at his ear. 

Kara smiled at him. "I think you're wrong. This is our salvation, Sam. The gods led us to the beacon and brought us through that wormhole, here, to Earth. We just have to find the others and show them the way home."

"It was home," he answered, gaze traveling the ruins. "A lifetime ago." 

She frowned at him, realizing this was something more than a dream. He was talking as if he'd been there. "Sam? What are you talking about?" 

He swallowed hard and he held up Isis. "We have something to tell you, Kara. About who we really are." 

Feeling suddenly anxious, she joked, trying to break the tension, "As long as you're not Cylons." 

He didn't smile. Instead he sighed. "It's a long story. Let's go inside and I'll tell you everything I remember."

* * *

**Epilogue**

 

Before, Kara would never have believed that a little child could find her mother from a hundred light-years away, but that had been before she went through a wormhole because of a song and a vision, and before she had found out her husband was a two-thousand year old Cylon and that child was the first Human-Cylon hybrid, still miraculously alive. 

When Sam and Kara slept, their dreams were filled with a large opera house and Hera crawled and toddled her way through it. They glimpsed Sharon, a Six and even Laura Roslin within the opera house, calling for Hera. But Sam was able to follow Hera in the dream, and Kara translated those motions into jump coordinates, so Hera led them to her mother, jump by jump. 

Kara had privately doubted this would work until their last jump into the nebula that remained from a supernova long ago, took them almost on top of the two fleets: Human and Cylon, facing each other, ready for battle and death. Yet despite their postures, there was no shooting. Instead, both sides floated, motionless and powerless as if frozen, waiting. 

Kara flicked on the wireless to address them both. "This is Kara Thrace on the _Diomedes_. Yes, I'm alive. Sam Anders and Hera Agathon are with me." She glanced at Sam and smiled. "We have news. No, better, we have the truth. We know who the Final Five are. We know where Earth is. It's time for all of us to learn the truth, and go to our new home. We're here to lead the way." 

And she knew it wouldn't be that easy, not really. But when Hera and Kacey someday told the story to their children, it would be. This would be the day the war ended and Human and Cylon started to live together in peace. 

Beside her, Sam held Hera on his lap, and he gave her a grin that was both amused and determined. Whatever the future would bring, at least they could face it together. 

* * *

_the end._


End file.
